30

There’s a sinful tilt to her lips, and then she laughs. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

“You can change your mind at any time,” I say, although I’m praying to every god who may or may not exist that she doesn’t change her mind.

“Stop trying to talk me out of it,” she says.

My driver takes us through the city and I raise the tinted privacy screen between him and us.

Ella’s pouting, like she’s thinking too hard about something.

“Can I help you with that?” I ask.

“With what?”

“With whatever arguments you’re going over and over in your head.”

She gives a little huff of humor. “How do you know?”

“Everything you’re feeling and thinking seems to be right there on your face. It’s how I knew you were into Kingston…you’re as into him as he is into you.”

Pursing her lips, she says, “I’m the shittiest poker player.”

“I believe that,” I say. “What I really want to know, though, is if you’re just as into me.”

“You have to know you’re hotter than most cover models,” she says, blushing and lookin